The A1 bridge, the Police and Me

I am now gonna tell you about my last "episode" as they are known in the world of psychiatry. This happened just over two years ago but I can't remember the exact date or even the month. That seems to be the norm for me when I am depressed. I remember everything that happens to me even if I am in a catatonic state but I don't remember specifics like dates and times.

I had been feeling depressed for a few weeks and I knew I wasn't going to be able to lift myself out of it. I was working at the time as a Safety Officer on the railways but as my mood dipped I was finding it hard to concentrate on work and I was beggining to feel paranoid around my workmates. I was feeling more and more anxious and kept breaking out in cold sweats. I knew I was on the slippery slope to a deep depression.

I remember waking up on this particular sunday morning in a panic. The next day I was supposed to be driving my colleagues to the Northeast in a van to work away for some time. I knew I couldn't do this and I also knew that if I didn't go I may lose us the contract. I panicked...I went outside to my car but it wouldn't start. There was only one thing to do and that involved taking the works van.

I drove off without exactly knowing where I was going. I started to think about which was the talest building in my hometown. My mind was all over the place but I was able to drive as normal...weird when I think about it now. I had decided that as it was sunday I wouldn't be able to access any tall buildings in town, in fact there aren't that many, so my plan was flawed from the start. I drove out of town and headed for the A1 motorway. Surely there must be a bridge high enough to throw myself off and end my misery.

I headed north on a road I know only too well....I have travelled up it for more than 30 years supporting Sunderland. After a while I arrived at a place called wentbridge. Here there is a bridge where the A1 spans a river. As I drove over it I couldn't see if it was high enough so I pulled off the A1 and drove into Wentbridge to view the bridge from below. This little village was so picturesque I remember thinking what a lovely place to die. Even though it was over 2 years ago and I was in a really depressed state I remember this day as if it were yesterday. The bridge looked high enough....

I sat in a layby for what seemed hours wondering exactly how I was gonna do this. Everytime a police car passed I wondered if they were looking for me. My plan was to drive onto the bridge and fake a breakdown so that's what I did.
It was late afternoon when I drove onto the bridge and pulled over to the edge. I put on the hazards and lifted the bonnet. I stood there for a while and waited for the first police car to arrive. As one turned the bend in the distance I climbed over the railings and hung on. Those who know me well will know that I am petrified by heights but on this particular day I was fine...must have been something to do with my state of mind at that time.

A policeman left his car behind my van and approached me very slowly. I think I told him to stay back or I would jump. He kept his distance and muttered something on his radio. After a while more squad cars arrived and they eventually cordened off one lane of the motorway. I remember looking into the eyes of the drivers as they passed slowly by, some even shouting "jump" or giving me the wanker sign. I didn't care, they didn't know me or the reasons why I was there. I remember feeling cold the metal of the barrier was making my hands go numb.

After a while fire engines appeared and parked in the distance, by now the whole of the A1 was blocked off. I had managed to close an entire motorway. By now trained negotiators were messing with my head, they were good. They tried to make me feel guilty suggesting that people with heart trouble or pregnant women could be stuck in the traffic jam. They also put it to me that if I did jump I probably wouldn't die. The ground below was soft and I would probably just parralise myself. This got to me as they suggested that my Mother would have to look after me for the rest of my life. I had been on the bridge for 3 hours when I finally gave up.
I was helped over the railing by the police as by now I was suffering from mild hypothermia. I was wrapped in a blanket and rushed off to the nearest hospital.

When in hospital they wrapped me in a "space suit" and heated me with what seemed like a giant hair dryer. The worst part of the day came when I saw my Mum. She hugged me and the tears flowed from both of us....she looked like she had seen a ghost. I feel guilty even writing about this moment in time. I promised myself I would never put her through this again. I was assessed and then I was driven in an ambulance to Ward10, the psychiatric ward of my local hospital....I'd been here before!

I think I was in Ward10 for a couple of months. I lost loads of weight as I wasn't eating I was in an almost catatonic state for a few days. Eventually my mood lifted with the help of medication and E.C.T (electro convulsive therapy ) by the way that's not as bad as it sounds and it seems to work on me so hey! The difference with this episode and previous ones was the after care I got. I had a great careworker who helped me get my flat and applied for all the grants and benefits that I was entitled to. So although I am not working I am living quite comfortably and enjoyin life again. I am on a new drug, well new to me, and it has kept me stable for over two years. I still see my psychiatrist on a regular basis and he is pleased with the way I am coping with this illness. Because that's what it's all about, controlling your illness cos it will probably be here foer the rest of my life....ah well. I think having Bi-Polar has made me a more complete person and I am very understanding of others.

I'll finish on a lighter note....Sunderland won again yesterday and now we are top of the league...well done the lads!